


The Temptations of the Wicked

by The13thBlackCat



Series: Maker, Know My Heart [8]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7161890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The13thBlackCat/pseuds/The13thBlackCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of various PWPs for these two that don't serve any other purpose (AKA why we're all here, really).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Temptations of the Wicked

   Maenfen’s ears twitched when Cullen let out a soft sigh, and he waited only long enough to finish the paragraph he was on before looking up.

   Cullen rubbed his temples slowly, his arm braced against his desk. Maenfen knew him well enough to know what that meant: a headache, probably. Or maybe he was just tired of work. The elf glanced towards the window, lips pursed. It was getting late anyway, and his commander needed a break.

   He marked his spot before standing, putting his book down in his chair. He paused beside Cullen, cocking his head and leaning down to see his face, but the commander’s eyes were closed; Maenfen clicked his tongue softly, straightening and moving to gather up the reports in front of him.

   Cullen looked up at that, beginning, “Wha—“ before Maenfen cut him off.

   “You need a break, ser. That’s an order.” Cullen started to protest, but before he could get more than a few words out Maenfen had set his reports aside, perching himself on the desk top where they had been. He cocked an eyebrow at Cullen, daring him to argue.

   “Mae…” He sounded like he meant to say Maenfen’s full name, but he cut himself off with a soft sigh. He sat back, smiling softly, and leaned his head against his hand.

   “And what am I supposed to be doing, then, Mae?” he asked finally. Maenfen pursed his lips, rubbing the side of his foot against Cullen’s calf. A few years ago, he would have had an answer—and even now, it was on the tip of his tongue—but he wasn’t sure if it was something he should suggest now. He wondered how bad Cullen’s headache was, if he did indeed have one.

   “Oh,” he said as he thought, “I’m sure we could come up with something fun and distracting to do…” He trailed off, and almost missed the intrigued quirk of Cullen’s eyebrow.

   “I’m sure _you_ could,” he answered, his voice soft. He had tried to sound scolding, but not quite managed it. Maenfen’s ears pricked.

   “Oh, I could, ser,” he said, breaking into a wicked little smile. He hooked his foot around Cullen’s calf. “I have. I _am_ right now, in fact.”

   “Mm.” Maybe it was in retaliation, but Cullen pulled back, scooting his chair away from his desk a little. “Why am I not surprised,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

   Maenfen’s ears twitched and he glanced downwards. A second later, a slow smile spread across his face, and he scooted to the edge of the desk. His feet hit the floor, but he only stood for a moment before going to his knees.

   “What do you say, Ser Cullen?” he asked, his voice soft, as he brushed his hands up Cullen’s legs, then pushed his knees apart. “Once more, for old time’s sake?”

   Cullen’s expression hadn’t changed, and though he shifted a little, he didn’t move to push Maenfen away. “Someone could walk in, Mae,” he said simply.

   “That never stopped us before,” Maenfen replied with a smile, before pressing a kiss to the inside of Cullen’s knee. The commander squirmed a little in place when he began slowly working his way upwards.

   “That never stopped _you_ , you mean,” Cullen retorted, shifting his leg to bump Maenfen’s face. The elf snorted against him, casting a glance upwards.

   “You want to know what else never stopped me?” Before Cullen could answer, he moved to nuzzle against his stomach, sliding his hands up between his thighs to his hips. “You. _You_ never stopped me. Just like you’re not now.”

   Cullen made a quiet, indistinct little sound, then cleared his throat. “Failure to stop you is not necessarily approval, Maenfen,” he said finally. But his voice was a little tight and his hips shifted forward, and Maenfen broke into a grin.

   “Oh, ser, for you? It _is_. Besides…” He squeezed Cullen’s hips briefly, then brushed a hand down along the inside of his thigh before cupping it around him. “… _that_ doesn’t feel like disapproval to me.”

   Cullen just huffed out a harsh breath through his nose, but he seemed to have run out of points to argue, since he said nothing. Maenfen continued to nuzzle his stomach, kneading him through his breeches until Cullen shifted his hips into his hand with a rough breath. Maenfen pressed a kiss against him, briefly annoyed by the fact that it was cloth against his lips rather than skin, and let his fingertips trace the ties of Cullen’s breeches before he pulled them loose.

   Maenfen let out a short, open-mouthed breath against his stomach when he closed his hand around Cullen’s erection and gave a smooth, firm stroke. He pressed a kiss against the side a second later, then swept his tongue against the place his lips had been, his ears flicking in response when Cullen’s breath hitched. A moment later, the commander’s hand brushed through his hair—a little roughly, in a way that made Maenfen moan against him—and swept it to the side, out of his way; Maenfen broke into a brief grin, then slid his tongue up the side of his erection, from base to tip.

   “Maker,” he breathed, “but you taste good.” To punctuate the statement, he swirled his tongue around the head, then sucked it into his mouth for a second before pulling back. “If I thought you’d let me, I’d do this so much more.”

   Cullen let out a harsh, short breath, his fingers still brushing through Maenfen’s hair. “I'm hardly stopping you, Mae,” he said finally, his voice rough and low; Maenfen shivered briefly, letting out a low moan.

   “You would here, ser,” he answered, sliding his hand along the length of his erection; smooth, firm, not too gentle, a twist of the wrist—he knew everything Cullen liked. “If I started to get _too_ bold, you’d never let me do anything outside of the bedroom again.”

   “That’s…never stopped you bef— _nngh._ ” Cullen cut off, his hips jerking forward and his hand tightening in Maenfen’s hair, and the elf let out a short bark of a laugh.

   “No,” he agreed, “it hasn’t, has it?”

   Before Cullen could answer, he took him back into his mouth with a moan, sucking on him briefly before pulling back a little to bob his head; Cullen’s stomach flexed and he sucked in a harsh breath, then let it out in a low moan, his hips pushing forward a little. Maenfen cast his eyes upwards for and instant, then shifted his hand to Cullen’s hip before taking him as deeply as he could, purposely going a little too quickly so his throat tightened reflexively around him. Cullen’s grip tightened in his hair and he gasped Maenfen’s name, breathless and rough; that was enough to make Maenfen moan around him, hoarse and muffled, before he pulled back to catch his breath, panting.

   “ _Maker,_ Cullen,” he gasped, before pausing to swipe his tongue across the head of his erection and lapping up the bead of moisture forming there, “the things you _do_ to me…”

   Before he could continue, Cullen exhaled harshly, letting go of his hair. “ _Up,_ ” he said simply. His voice had gone rough and hoarse, deep, _beautiful_ ; Maenfen couldn’t have resisted the command if he’d wanted to, and he didn’t try, scrambling to his feet just as Cullen stood, shoving him back against the edge of his desk and kissing him, hard and deep.

   Maenfen barely had the presence of mind to catch himself against the desk, moaning helplessly into Cullen’s mouth before his arms went around the commander’s neck, his fingers tangling in his hair. Somehow, he ended up on the desk—had Cullen moved him there, or had he done it himself?—and his legs crossed behind Cullen’s hips, pulling him closer. The commander seemed to have the same plan, because his hips rocked forward between Maenfen’s thighs, his erection pressing into him firmly.

   When Maenfen broke off the kiss, it was only for an instant before Cullen caught him in a second one, shoving him down onto his back. Maenfen managed to pull away for a second to gasp and Cullen took the chance to press a rough kiss against his neck, jerking his shirt open almost to the top buttons and smoothing a palm across his stomach. His hand had made its way to his waistband and Maenfen arched his hips upwards eagerly, gasping breathlessly, “ _Gloves._ ”

   Cullen made a rough, irritated sound as he realized, and Maenfen laughed shortly in response when he pulled back, tugging his gloves off and tossing them onto the floor. Maybe it was retaliation for the laugh, but he pinned Maenfen’s wrists above his head when he kissed him again, his free hand slipping down between the elf’s thighs.

   Maenfen made a hoarse noise in his throat, pushing his hips up to grind himself into Cullen’s hand and gasping when his commander broke the kiss off, “Sweet Maker, Cullen _please!_ ” He needed— He just needed— Maker, _anything._

**_More._ **

   Cullen made a dark, thoughtful sound in his throat, tugging Maenfen’s breeches open and closing his hand around him. He’d pulled back to watch Maenfen’s head tip back, his eyes closing as he moaned, and he murmured, his voice heavy, “Maker, you’re beautiful when you beg. Or when you do that.”

   Maenfen moaned again at that, his eyes flickering back open. He swallowed, hard, then whispered finally, “I thought you _always_ thought I was beautiful?”

   “I do,” Cullen answered simply before kissing him again and shifting to unpin his wrists. Maenfen’s hands slid back against the desk as he returned the kiss, rolling his hips upwards against Cullen as pleadingly as he could manage; the commander adjusted himself briefly before pushing back against him, his erection sliding against Maenfen’s, and the elf broke off the kiss with a short gasp, his hands closing around the edge of Cullen’s desk. There was a thin crack there, under his palm, still unrepaired and unhidden.

   Cullen did it again, on purpose this time—Maenfen could tell in the way he shifted to drag his erection against him, slower and more thoroughly—and pressed a kiss against Maenfen’s jaw, just under his earlobe. He caught the elf’s earlobe in a sharp little bite that almost managed to distract Maenfen when he close his hand around both of them and gave a rough, short stroke.

   Maenfen gasped his name—or as much of it as he could manage before Cullen kissed him, which wasn’t much more than the first syllable—and thrust his hips forward without thinking, into Cullen’s hand and against his erection. The elf let out a low moan, his head tipping back onto the desk when Cullen did it again; he couldn’t get as much room to maneuver, as closely as they were pressed together, but it didn’t really matter, because Maenfen was already close and the head of Cullen’s erection was rubbing against him in _just the right spot_ and it was _almost too much **and—**_

   Cullen was closer than he was, though, and he buried his face against Maenfen’s neck with a hoarse moan when he came, his hips pressing forward between Maenfen’s thighs and his teeth sinking into his neck a second later. Maenfen arched up against him with a short, strangled noise—just hearing and _feeling_ Cullen come against him was almost all he had ever needed—but didn’t manage to do much else before the commander exhaled harshly against him, pressing his thumb up against the elf’s erection in a firm stroke that felt _so damned good_ that Maenfen mentally declared it cheating. He managed to gasp Cullen’s name, breathless and short, before cutting off with a harsh gasp when he reached his own climax, his hips arching up off the desk.

   Maenfen let out a hoarse breath, then sighed softly, closing his eyes for a moment and just breathing as Cullen let go of his neck. After a few seconds, the elf finally relaxed his grip around the edge of Cullen’s desk, lazily sliding his hands up Cullen’s arms and into his hair. He ran his fingers through the commander’s hair for a few moments—idly amused at himself when he realized he was basically _petting_ Cullen—and just breathing. Cullen had tilted his head into Maenfen’s hands, making a pleased little sound in his throat after a couple moments, contented and warm. Finally, Maenfen’s eyes flicked open, and he smiled brightly.

   “So,” he said, his voice hazy, “take me to bed?”

   Cullen laughed in response, a little breathlessly, then pressed a kiss to the side of Maenfen’s head. His lips brushed against his ear a moment later and he began, “I think…that you need to get out of my office, if I’m ever going to get anything done.”

   Maenfen blinked, then groaned, smacking his shoulder lightly. He pouted at Cullen when the commander pulled back and began to fix his clothing, then heaved a sigh. The elf pushed himself up, retying his breeches with a huff; he left his shirt open for the moment, though, for one reason. Cullen was fixing his hair— _fussing,_ Maenfen knew—and when he turned his attention back to Maenfen, his eyes immediately went to his stomach—and the evidence of what had just transpired, spread across it. Maenfen broke into a wide grin at his little embarrassed flush, and the way he cleared his throat and went back to fussing with his hair.

   “Fine, fine.” The elf caught Cullen’s arm, tugging him back. He slid his arms around Cullen’s neck, pulling him forward to kiss his cheek. “Promise me you won’t work yourself too hard, at least,” he said, his voice soft and gentle. Before Cullen could answer, he broke into a little grin, then added, “That’s my job.”

   Cullen snorted, but planted a quick kiss against his lips before pulling back.

   “I promise. Now get out of here.”


End file.
